


An Accidental Courtship

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Courting Rituals, Courtship, Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), F/M, Flirting, Intrigue, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26398393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: There's only one good thing in Antiva waiting for Varric Tethras, and that thing is Josephine Montilyet.He didn't plan on accidentally starting a courtship, though.
Relationships: Josephine Montilyet/Varric Tethras
Series: 2020 Charity Fundraiser One-Shots for RAINN [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913077
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	An Accidental Courtship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enigmalea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/gifts).



> This is part of my Charity Fundraiser! All of the proceeds go to RAINN.org to help survivors of sexual violence. Thank you Enigmalea for the adorable pair and SOMEONE ELSE to ship Varric with (just what I needed).

There were precious few things about Antiva worth the blighted voyage Varric suffered.

Sea-faring, at the best of times, was not his mug of ale. No matter what Rivaini said, there were few advantages to a glorified wash basin bobbing along for days with absolutely nothing but miles of _nothing_ to look at. 

At the worst of times? His rickety ship found itself tossed between waves the size of blighted dragons, lost in storms, drowning in rain, and every meal tasted like salt water that leaked into the termite infested pile of driftwood. Sure, it was probably better than swimming from Kirkwall, but not by much. 

Just to get to Antiva and deal with the human equivalent of the blighted Merchant’s Guild, the Antivan Merchant _Princes_. All the fun backstabbing politics of dwarves with the added flair, drama, and egos of _Antivans_. 

It was enough to make him wish his ship had sunk to the bottom of the Waking Sea. 

There was really only one bright spot to the whole trip, and she was the only reason he hadn’t abandoned the whole treaty on the spot. Kirkwall, and it’s Viscount, owed a debt of gratitude to the Lady Montilyet. He didn’t know what he’d have done without her.

That thought brought a complicated pang of grief with it. One that made him look up from the semi-final version of his treaty to take in the woman seated across from him. She’d grown lovelier in the years since the Inquisition, which seemed quite unfair when he seemed to just get older. Her dark hair spilled loose over her shoulders like ink, copper skin shimmering in the sunlight from the windows. She tapped her quill thoughtfully against her lips as she read. 

Varric harbored thoughts about those lips. Roguish thoughts not fit for his dear lady to hear, although if he’d been a younger man, he may have risked it. He risked much more for much less, after all. 

His eyes flicked to the crossbow in the corner ruefully, then back down to the papers he held. 

In truth, there’d be things to be missed in Antiva. The docks lacked that week-old fish odor so common in Kirkwall. The food tended to be far more flavorful. There were less people he knew here, always a plus when he knew such boring people. 

And, most importantly, _Josephine_. 

Varric dared another glance above his papers just in time to see Josephine’s forehead wrinkle in a matter that could best be described as adorable. Charming, in fact. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes, draped in a delicate silver dress accented with hundreds of dangling, shimmering bits. 

Ripe for the picking by any clever thief. And, Viscount or no, he was still a _remarkably_ clever thief. 

“Ruffles, you look like I need a drink.” 

Josephine’s lips quirked up in an immediate smile the second he opened his mouth. She looked at him through the sweep of her dark lashes. 

“It is tiring, isn’t it?” 

“Tiring is one word for it.” A far more polite word than he would have used. Varric tossed his own stack down, smirking. “What do you want to do for dinner today?” 

He’d taken her out on the town almost every evening since he’d sailed into Antiva City. The first night had been a chance to catch up, talking about old times, gossiping about old friends. 

The second night had been all business. He needed her help to figure out how to cut through the bullshit he’d landed himself in, and who else could he trust?

Every subsequent night got a little less about business and more about hearing Josephine’s delightful observations. He’d always known she was clever and just the right amount of ruthless, but he’d never gotten the opportunity to bask in her glow so completely. The frantic years of the Inquisition’s existence was too full of holes in the skies and demons to appreciate the finer things.

Like beautiful, intelligent women that harbored no secret, doomed angst. 

“A distraction sounds most welcome.” Josephine settled her own papers down, leaning forward. The dress she wore dipped in the front and Varric couldn’t help but look. He felt vaguely disappointed that the neckline was still far too modest. 

“Anywhere you wanna go, beautiful?” The endearment slipped out, but if Josephine found it improper, she didn’t say. Instead, her eyes sparkled and she dipped her chin, the picture of a demure noblewoman. 

“Perhaps an evening stroll on the docks? It is a lovely night.” 

“And you’re certainly dressed to impress. Maybe we can find you a handsome young bachelor to introduce yourself to.” 

Josephine lifted her dark eyes, the gleam in them almost predatory. “Why would I bother impressing any other bachelors but the one courting me?” 

Varric returned her small smile with one of his own before his mind caught up. He froze, but Josephine had already stood in a flurry of fine silk. 

“There is a cafe that makes this drink, it’s the same one Bull used to favor, with a dollop of fresh cream on top and the prettiest cakes. I’ve been _longing_ to try it.” 

He _couldn’t_ have heard her right. His hearing was finally going. “Sounds very romantic, Ruffles.” 

“I knew it would be perfect for us.” Josephine gushed. “I appreciate your… gentlemanly manner. But I was hoping the atmosphere would inspire you. Yvette swears it works wonders on her suitors.” 

Suitors. 

Well, Maker take him. He was courting Josephine Monitiliyet, who apparently had only one complaint about the whole situation. 

“Your family doesn’t mind you out and about with the most disreputable scoundrel ever elected Viscount?” He asked, just to be sure. He was too old for forbidden romances and cloak and dagger assignations. He _certainly_ wasn’t dragging poor sweet Ruffles along for the ride just cause he was harboring some dangerous fantasies about the way she moved like a dancer waiting for a partner to whirl her away. 

“What objection could they have?” Josephine asked. “You are _respectable_ , my lord.” 

She was _teasing_ him. He’d never been so thrilled in his life. He stood from his seat, offering his arm to Josephine. 

“One last thing, beautiful.” 

“Yes?” 

Varric threw one arm around the soft curve of her waist and pulled her to him, tipping his chin up. 

“How about I claim that kiss now?” 


End file.
